Challenge: The Story of the 47th Hunger Games
by OrangeNinjaAttack
Summary: Chaotic Retter is sick of her twin brother Crisis. He's convinced he will lead the Career pack in the 47th Hunger Games, and come out alive. Chaotic has some other plans: saving the targets of the pack from brutal murders. Can Chaotic withstand the pressure of the Capitol? Will she survive her own brother and be left standing alone in a few weeks' time? R&R! Rated T for themes.
1. Prologue

**Ok. Long story short, I got inspired by a character in one of ****_jakey121_****'s stories, so I decided to make a new story for the character but totally different. Not sure if that makes sense. Anyways, this is Challenge, the story of the 47nd Hunger Games. Thanks for reading.**

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Challenge - The Story of the 47nd Hunger Games

I despise the Games.

It might be silly of me to say that, because I live in District 1, but I think the Games are cruel and unusual punishment for the innocent.

Of course, my twin brother, as usual, thinks the exact opposite.

Crisis and I look almost eerily similar, even though he's a guy and I most definitely am not. We have the same sandy blonde hair and stunning blue-green eyes, and our twin 5'9" frames are easy to spot in a crowd.

But just because we're twins doesn't mean we're the same. Definitely the opposite when you take notice of little things.

His eyes are blue with green speckles, mine are green with blue. His hair is more blonde than brown, and mine is definitely a few shades darker. He's a few sixteenths of an inch taller, and was born seven minutes before me.

He claims the time difference is the only one. That's the other thing about my brother. He is stupid. I am not.

Of course, he passes all his classes, and so do I, so he can't be entirely dumb. He claims he has "street smarts" which I believe is code for knowing "how to be cool." He's only cool to the other kids who want to be Careers. My brother is the leader of the Careers-in-Training. He calls himself Victor #23, of the 47nd Hunger Games.

Whenever he says that, I laugh. If you place 23rd in the Hunger Games, you were the second death. He doesn't get that. I won't explain it.

The Reaping is soon and we both plan on volunteering. It is our last year, after all. My reasons for volunteering are totally different than Crisis', though.

He is ignorant. I am not. I don't plan on protecting him in the arena unless he approaches me first. I have a different agenda: protecting those that he targets.

He plans on leading the Careers on a torture spree. I plan on preventing that.

I dig into my cereal, relishing the crunch in my mouth. After an early-morning training session I had jogged home like usual, to find my brother still sleeping, like usual. He's not what you would call motivated in the morning.

I jog upstairs to pack some clothes to change into after I go back to the Training Center. If I'm going to beat my brother at what's supposedly his game, I need to get in more training than usual.

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My trainer, Tanika, is waiting for me when I arrive back at the Training Center. She's the only person that I've told my plan to. She understands how hard I need to work to set it in motion. It might be difficult but I will beat Crisis.

We start with some survival review until I hear a familiar voice.

"What is HE doing here this early?!" I almost scream.

"Hi, little sis! How's the training going?" he shouts across the facility.

I do my best to ignore him. He's only ever a jerk to me when we're training, just so that he can show off. Ugh.

Crisis strolls across the Training Center, occasionally stopping to chat with trainers or trainees. Once he finally gets to me, he pats my head and says hello to Tanika. God I hate him right now.

"What are you doing here, sis?" he questions.

"I could ask you the same thing," I glare.

"Come on, Chaotic, quit messing around," he laughs.

"I came back for more training. Why else would I be here?"

"You were here _earlier_ than this?! I woke up like three hours ago and couldn't sleep so I came here once I figured it was an acceptable hour."

"I was here at 5."

"What's your point?"

I roll my eyes and motion for Tanika to follow me to a different station.

"Chaotic!"

"What do you want now, Crisis?!"

"Duel me."

This is the other reason that I hate training with Crisis. He's always trying to show off his strength to me and the others. It sucks. Especially because he only ever wants to fight me.

"Please? You never do."

"Find a trainer to help you." I say coldly. It's been ages since we were training at the same time and I remember clearly why I started going earlier than him.

"Fine, be a wuss. You're just scared because you know I can beat you."

There's a collective "ooh" from the crowd that's gathered around us. He really knows how to set me up.

"One fight. That's it." I say, putting on a belt of assorted throwing stars and knives.

He smirks and only takes an 8" dagger. We move to the fight ring.

_Okay,_ I think to myself,_ he's going to try to get in close. Shorter weapons means closer combat._

I take two throwing stars off the belt. The trainer blows their whistle, signaling the start of the match.

With a sudden twang, both throwing stars are lodged in his protective chest gear, right over his heart.

"You'd be dead already," I snarl.

"Not if I had a bulletproof vest," he retorts.

"Where the hell will you find that in the arena?!"

"From my sponsors, obviously." He starts to duck and weave through the stars and knives flying at him. One catches him in the left shoulder and he stumbles. I make my move, taking a particularly long knife and walking forward. Just before he regains his balance, I knee him in the stomach and he falls, clutching his abdomen. I move my knife to the back of his neck.

"And... there's your cannon. Thanks for playing How to Die."

He snarls and shoves me off of him, stalking away. The crowd applauds me, except for Crisis' entourage. They shoot me some glares and follow him.

As I leave the ring, I get some high fives and claps on the back. Exactly like I had just won the Games. When I get back to Tanika, she's looking at me differently.

"You really do have a chance at these Games, you know."

I just smirk and continue chopping and slashing dummies.

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"You're just mad because I beat you this morning!"

"Duh! Seriously, way to make me look bad! Come on, could you have been more embarrassing? If I didn't know better I would've thought that you were volunteering too!"

I roll my eyes. "You know I hate the Games."

"Then what was that all about?!"

"Showing you that you don't own me. I am better than you."

He snorts. "Yeah, when you have your choice of weapons."

"If I was in the Games I wouldn't need to go to the Cornucopia! I can make a weapon from anything."

"Suuuure."

_Just you wait and see, brother._

Finally we arrive home. I had changed and left, and Crisis was waiting for me outside for some reason. Clearly he's upset that a girl 7 minutes younger than him just beat him at his own game.

"Just get over yourself already." I say as I start my way upstairs. "Not everyone loves you as much as you think."

All I hear from him before I close my bedroom door is laughter.

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	2. Reapings and Replacements

_Challenge - Chapter 1_

Today is the day of the Reaping. Finally. I can't wait to put Crisis in his place once and for all.

After a few extra hours of training before the Reaping, I jog home and take a quick shower, paying special attention to my hair. I'm not into my looks as much as the other girls in our District, but I know that I have to look good in order to win over more sponsors. I curl my hair and slide in a sky blue headband.

My dress is one that I've been saving for today for years. The skirt portion is sky blue with white polkadots, there's a white ribbon on the bottom of my rib cage, and the top is the same blue but with no dots. The straps are thin white ribbons. It's perfect.

"Chaotic! Get out of the bathroom already or I'll tell Mom!" Crisis is so immature sometimes. I sigh, check my makeup one more time (blue eyeshadow, mascara, and light pink lipstick), and leave the bathroom. Crisis stumbles away from the door.

"Wow... You actually look like a girl for once," he teases.

"You actually look human today," I say as I go to get my white sandals. Crisis just laughs.

"Thanks for leaving some hot water!" he shrieks once he gets into the shower. Now it's my turn to laugh.

I have a quick sandwich before leaving. I shout goodbye and hear a few goodbye's back. I take that as my cue to leave. Closing the door behind me, I leave my house for the last time in a long time.

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When I arrive at the Square, where the Reaping is always held, Tanika is waiting for me. "Glad you could make it," she laughs. I grin. I'm about 45 minutes early.

In our district, presence at the Reaping is mandatory. One year a boy was reaped but wasn't there (of course someone volunteered). He was beat almost to death just for not showing up. The Games are a big deal around here.

That's why the inelligible have to check in too, but at a separate queue. I move to the first Peacekeeper I see and give her my hand. "Name," she says, already bored.

"Chaotic Retter," I ignore the sharp poke of the needle and the Peacekeeper roughly moves my arm to stamp the blood mark into her attendance book next to my name.

"Good luck," Tanika whispers in my ear before going to check in elsewhere. I head over to the 18-year-old section.

After waiting for a while, finally some others show up in my section. They make eye contact with me and nod. My only true friend is Tanika, but the others at least have respect for me.  
Finally, our dimwit of an escort takes a seat on the stage as the mayor walks to the microphone.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Reaping for the 47nd Annual Hunger Games! Now, for the Treaty of Treason.  
"In penance for their uprising, each district shall offer up a male and a female between the ages of 12 and 18 at a public "reaping". These tributes shall be delivered to the custody of the Capitol, and then be transferred to a public arena, where they will fight to the death until a lone victor remains. Henceforth and forevermore this pageant shall be known as The Hunger Games.  
"And now, here is our beautiful mentor, Iredesa Roque!"

"Welcome! Who's excited?" She giggles when almost every hand goes up. "Well, let's be courteous here. Ladies first, as always!" She trots over to the female reaping bowl and time starts to slow down. I'm ready for this.

"Amandla Ste-"

"I VOLUNTEER!" rings out across the entire Square from about 20 mouths at once. But only two people make it even close to the stairs. I forcefully shove the other girl, a slow redhead, and parade triumphantly up the stairs. Time picks up its pace again.

"Chaotic Retter," I announce into the microphone that's shoved into my face. The shocked looks all around the Square make risking my life almost worth it. I grin. I'm tired of Crisis always getting his way; this is the only way for that to stop. If he would become Victor, it would be infinitely worse.

Iredesa doesn't even blink. She's used to volunteers by now. "I must say, Chaotic, what a beautiful name!" she comments. My smile is even wider now. "It's time for the men!"

Time slows again.

"Dayo Okeni-"

"I VOLUNTEER!" Once again, not a surprise. A familiar boy is already striding to the stage. There are no others. Of course, no one would dare challenge the great Crisis Retter. Whereas my volunteering was a secret, his volunteering was a well-known fact, and he was willing to destroy anyone in his way.

"And you are...?" Iredesa trails off.

"Crisis. Crisis Retter. Ladies, come see me afterwards for an autograph from me, your soon-to-be Victor." he says über-jauntily.

"Ooh! Are you two related?" Iredesa asks knowingly.

"Yeah, we're twins actually," Crisis sounds annoyed. Good for me.

"Alrighty then! The Retter twins, Crisis and Chaotic!"

See what I mean? He gets everything.

We're ushered back into the Justice Building, off of the stage. As soon as the doors close behind us, Crisis reaches out and shoves me without even sparing me a glance. "That's for being a bitch," he whispers menacingly.

I'm really feeling the brotherly love.

Luckily we get separate rooms for goodbyes. I don't think I can stand too much of him before the Games start. That's probably one of the two flaws of my plan. The other is the very low chance of my death. But I won't die.

"Chaotic!" I hear as Tanika bursts through the doors. "I can't believe you're really doing this!"

I smile slightly. Tanika was never fond of the idea that I would be volunteering. I think it's because she knows what kind of traumas I'll be going through. She won her Games a couple years ago. She was reaped but didn't accept volunteers; at only 14 she was one of the very youngest to ever win the Games; she only won because her training started when she was 2. Some of our district's citizens are brutal. Her parents are some of those people because they both won their Games, too. Victory must run in the family.

"It's the only way, Tanika. You of all people should know that."

She sighs. "I'm going to really miss you," she whispers, a tear tracing a wavy line down her cheek. "Until you get back, I mean." She shuffles around nervously before pulling something out of her pocket. "I brought you a token."

It's a beautiful green and blue two-inch circular charm on a silver chain. It has a "C" engraved and it looks like it cost a lot of money. As soon as I see it, I start to tear up. I knew we were best friends, but I didn't realize how much that meant to Tanika.

"Look," she says as she pushes a hidden button on the side. I couldn't tell it was there; it's flush with the surface. Once it's pushed, the front of the charm swings open on hidden hinges, and inside there's a photo of the two of us together and happy. I couldn't have asked for a better token.

I surprise Tanika and pull her into a rare hug. "It's perfect," I whisper as the lakes in my eyes threaten to flood my face. "I'll miss you in the arena."

"Just survive, okay?" she whispers back. I nod, promising my safe return. Her arms tighten for a moment, so short that I might've imagined it, and then suddenly she breaks away.

"I did some research. Around 30% of the deaths every year are due to exposure; that means you better pick up some survival tips if you don't already have some." She winks. "Of course, you won't need more of them."

I smile and hug her again. It'll be a while before I see her again. This time, I'm the one to squeeze her tighter, memorizing her smell, her feel, before breaking away.

"May the odds be ever in your favor," she says, "and I'll see you soon." She nods curtly with a small smile, before waving and leaving.

My parents come by, wish me luck, and shower me with hugs and kisses before moving on to Crisis. I assure them that I'll return. They looked... they looked like they don't believe me.

Finally, Peacekeepers come into our rooms to move us to the train.

"I believe you'll find the rooms and meals to be satisfactory," Iredesa comments when we climb aboard. I nod, sitting on the couch and watching whatever nonsense is on the television. Crisis follows suit.

"Why did you do it?" he whispers. I can hear the barely controlled rage, and when I look him in the eyes, they're sharp and menacing. Angry.

"Because you needed to be taught a lesson." That shuts him up for a while but earns me an eye roll.

"Did you ever just... feel like you knew when you were going to die?" he finally says. "I know when I'll die. Exactly what day, hour, minute."

I just look at him. "And how would you know that?"

"A psychic told me," he says louder, getting defensive. "Don't look at me like that! It's true! I was going to die in a training accident, but once I saw that, I decided I had to volunteer. That changed the outcome, of course, so the next time I saw the psychic, it was the same time, but... but it was in the Games."

I groan. "You can't possibly know when you're gonna die. Psychics are fake."

He shrugs. "If you say so. But I'd rather die in the Games honorably, than die in a stupid training accident." I smirk. Of course he would.

"Okay, well, I'm going to my room. Iredesa, if you would let me know when dinner is, that would be appreciated." I leave and stalk off to my room, flopping onto my bed.

Here we go.

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**Hi! This is ONA and I am so glad that this idea popped into my head. Thanks to jakey121 for letting me use his beautiful character (Chaotic's in his story Family: Does It Matter?), and thanks to Thevulcanin221B for a super sweet review. Let's hope this Career-POV isn't too boring!**

**If you stick with me, I can (mostly) guarantee thrillers, plot twists, and cliffhangers. Thanks for checking this out :)**

**ONA**


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